


Constantly On the Cusp

by diamonds_and_rust



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Smut, So much smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamonds_and_rust/pseuds/diamonds_and_rust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't have any clean clothes to sleep in after a hunt. Sharing a motel room with Henry has its perks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constantly On the Cusp

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my own hurt shoulder. I would sell my soul for Henry to rub it for me. Why must he be so hot? Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy it! I wrote it at five in the morning so if there's a mistake, feel free to tell me. I am so tired. Also, this was kinda inspired by Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

“Dean, love me!”

The eldest Winchester gave you an indigent look. “What the hell?” he demanded. “What do you want?”

You had returned from a long hunt an hour ago. Sam had stayed behind to keep an eye on Henry and do some research on Abaddon. But you and Dean were dead tired, so understandably his temper was on the shorter side when you had made your plea.

“I don’t have any clean pajamas. Can I borrow a shirt of yours to wear?” you asked.

He let out a huff. “All of my clothes are dirty, too. Borrow one of Sam’s shirts,” Dean suggested. “I’m gonna go to our room and take a shower.” He and Sam were sharing a motel room, leaving you to bunk with Henry in the one next door. You were a bit surprised when they didn’t comment on the sleeping arrangements. Your attraction to Henry seemed pretty obvious to you, but perhaps they hadn’t noticed with all the turmoil going on. On the other hand, perhaps they were just being polite. You suspected the former, because they'd most definitely never let you hear the end of it if it were the latter.

Dean exited the room without further word. Hopefully, you turned to Sam. "Sammy," you began sweetly.

The younger Winchester fought an apologetic smile. "Sorry, kiddo, I've got nothing," he shrugged. "We'll do laundry tomorrow, okay? Your shirt isn't too bad, you'll probably be fine sleeping in it."

You felt a rush of dejection. You had counted on at least one of the boys having a shirt you could wear. Another hour in your shirt wasn’t appealing, let alone an entire night. With a sigh, you flopped down on your bed and closed your eyes. It could’ve been worse, but at the same time… Nope, this was terrible. You were going to scream.

“Here. You can wear one of my shirts,” Henry offered, a small smile on his face.

You felt a rush of blood warm your cheeks. Quickly, you sat up. “Thank you,” you said gratefully, taking the white shirt from his hands. You headed to the bathroom to change out of your dirty clothes. Anything that wasn’t jeans and a grimy tank top was heaven at the moment.

Although the bathroom door was shut, the walls were extremely thin -that or you had good hearing all of a sudden. Either way, you heard every bit of the conversation between Sam and Henry. Maybe you should have felt bad, but for some reason, your conscience was on vacation.

“D’you think that she likes me?”

“Who, Y/N?” Sam questioned, surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, she does. Otherwise… well, I’m pretty sure you’d know if she didn’t like you.”

Henry laughed quietly, uncomfortably. “Er, no, that’s not quite what I meant.”

There was a pause as Sam caught onto what his grandfather was saying. “Dude, c’mon, it’s bad enough with Dean bringing back girls,” he teased. “My grandfather’s getting laid more than I am.”

You snorted from the bathroom, then clapped a hand over your mouth, hoping they hadn’t heard that. Deciding that your absence was starting to look suspicious, you hurriedly finished buttoning the shirt and unlocked the bathroom door. When you stepped into the room, Henry immediately dropped his gaze. You felt a deep satisfaction in knowing that he was attracted to you just as much as you were attracted to him.

Sam’s gaze raked over you, his eyebrows raising as he saw what you were wearing. Henry’s shirt was long enough to fall to the tops of your thighs and you refused to wear jeans to bed as a matter of principle, leaving you in nothing but panties. Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, so… I’m gonna head to bed myself. You two try not to get into any trouble, okay?” he joked.

Henry smiled nervously. “Good night, Sam.”

“Night, Sam!” you called. Sam shot you look that was both amused and resigned before shutting the door. You practically sashayed over to lock it. After all, it wouldn’t do to have any interruptions. Upon turning around, you realized just how intimate the motel room was. Sure, there were two beds and Sam and Dean were approximately two feet away, but you were alone. This was either going to end very well or awkwardly. Personally, you were hoping for a happy ending.

Henry hovered uncomfortably at the foot of his bed. “How was the hunt?” he inquired.

You gave him a wry smile as you returned to your own bed. Without glancing at his expression, you knew that he was having a difficult time not staring at you. “It was so long, I feel like every muscle in my body is all tight. Would you please rub my shoulders?” you begged.

His eyes widened in surprise at your abrupt request. “I mean… Yes, of course,” he blinked rapidly, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. He glanced around, looking for a good spot to perform the massage.

The chair was the most logical option, but before he could voice it, you made your own suggestion. “Why don’t you sit on the bed? I’ll sit in front of you so it’s not awkward.” Okay, so that wasn’t the most rational position, but it was the best for doing the most damage. Despite your words, Henry most certainly looked awkward.

Although he was sitting further back on the bed, his long legs which were framing yours had no trouble reaching the floor still. His chest was mere inches away from your back. You wanted to turn around and watch his expression, but you didn't want to move in case he got too nervous. His thumbs worked the muscles in the back of your neck and you nearly wept with relief. His hands were your new favorite thing about him.

It took every ounce of willpower not to let out a moan. “Thank you,” you said a little breathlessly. His warm palms slid further down your back, massaging the area around your spine. If he hadn’t been sitting behind you, you would’ve been a puddle on the bed.

“Hunting must be a very tiring exercise,” Henry commented.

“Yeah, it - _Son of a bitch_!” you hissed. Henry’s hands immediately pulled away from you. The muscles in your left shoulder weren’t just knotted, they were pulled. You held still until the pain went away.

He grasped your chin, turning your head to face him. “Are you all right?”

“Sorry, my shoulder just hurts a little more than I thought. It should be fine in the morning,” you stated brightly, wincing as you tested out the mobility of your joint. “Guess who’s gonna be staying away from heavy lifting from now on?”

His body was practically radiating heat. “Perhaps there is something I can do to help the pain,” he began.

You were instantly interested. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

Henry didn’t falter for a second. “There are certain ways of releasing endorphins in the body,” he stated slowly, gauging your reaction.

“I like endorphins. Would this method involve taking off my clothes?” you teased, twisting around to give him a wry smile. He arched an eyebrow.

“Most certainly.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Anything to get me out of my clothes.”

He huffed out a laugh, his fingertips trailing the hem of his shirt. You felt his mouth against the back of your neck, moving over your shoulder and anywhere else within easy range. “Just tell me to stop and I will,” Henry whispered. You nearly snorted. Like you were going to let anything short of the apocalypse stop that man from touching you.

Almost agonizingly slow, he began to unbutton the shirt, exposing your breasts. When the shirt was open, he pushed apart the sides, the material falling down your arms. He couldn’t see your body, but what he lacked in sight, he made up for in touch. Warm, rough palms cupped your breasts, making you breathless for more.

Henry removed the shirt all of the way, tossing it into a corner carelessly. He slide his hands down your arms. You caught his wrists. One hand you twined your fingers with. The other you guided further down until the tips of his fingers caught over the edge of your panties. You let out a soft cry as he applied the slightest pressure, stroking gently.

“Sh, sh, sh,” he breathed hotly into your ear. “Let me take care of you.” His fingers slid over the quickly dampening fabric of your panties. Suddenly the once-harmless garment was the most annoying thing on Earth. You lifted your hips, squirming beneath his touches. The pads of his fingers grazed over your clit briefly before trailing lower between your legs. Eagerly, you spread your knees apart even further, anticipating his next move. When his fingers finally slipped inside of you, your head fell back onto his chest. Even you could feel just how turned on you were.

You arched your back, digging your nails into the tops of his thighs. “Please,” you whimpered.

Henry barely was able to hold back his own moaning. “I wish I could see your face. You’re so deliciously wet. Dripping for me. Do you feel that?” he demanded harshly, his fingers sliding in and out of you quickly. It occurred to you briefly to be embarrassed at how close you were to your release already, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the tiny motel room that had somehow become the center of your universe. You clenched around his fingers tightly. It wasn’t enough, but you weren’t going to complain when what he was doing felt so amazing.

You mewled as his rough palm rubbed your clit. That was your undoing. You bucked your hips against his hand, squeezing every iota of pleasure you could. Henry’s breathing had become nearly as labored as yours as he watched you writhe between his legs. He whispered words of comfort, his voice soothing. It was the only thing that kept you sane.

When you came down from your high, you were vaguely aware that while you were relaxed, Henry was still very much turned on. "Your turn," you declared, albeit breathlessly.

“What about your shoulder?” he asked.

You smiled at his concern. “We’ll just have to be careful,” you stated. Without waiting for his reply, you pushed him onto his back before straddling his hips. You lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss. His hand reached up to tangle in your hair. The need to touch him, to take in every inch of him is overwhelming. You hardly knew where to begin. Having him at your mercy was almost too much to handle.

Grinding against him seemed like a good place to start.

His reaction was perfect. He grabbed your hips, thumbs digging into your bones. Henry’s eyes were wide as he arched up, the coarse fabric of his pants creating wonderful friction on your over-sensitive skin. He parted his lips to let out a small groan.

“Please, let me get out of these clothes,” he panted.

While the idea was tempting, you wanted to toy with him a bit more. Instead of moving, you simply unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and stroked his cock. Henry inhaled sharply and clenched the sheets between his hands. His self-control was crumbling and you could tell. You kept stroking him until he sat up and grabbed your wrists.

“What?” you protested innocently.

He buried his face in your neck. “You are going to be my undoing,” he muttered. With haste he hadn’t shown with undressing you, he nearly tore the rest of his clothes off. You stood there watching him strip. His body was practically perfect. Who knew he had been hiding all of that underneath his suit? Henry let out a low groan as you traced a hand down his body. You simply couldn’t help yourself. Besides, why should he have all the fun? You could do things with your hands, too.

Although he was not a hunter, he still possessed strength. With that strength, he lifted you up and slammed you against the motel wall. If Sam and Dean weren’t awake before, they definitely were now. You whimpered into his neck, rolling your hips wantonly, your folds sliding over the head of his cock. You wanted him so desperately. More desperate than your lungs were for oxygen.

“Tell me how much you want me inside you,” he commanded.

“ _Henry_.” You couldn't tell if you were more surprised or delighted by his request.

He grabbed your chin, forcing your head up. “Tell me,” he repeated.

“Please fuck me. I-I _need_ you. _God_. Want you to absolutely _wreck_ me,” you begged, arching into him, your nails scoring down his arms. Your legs wrapped around him. You couldn't get enough of him.

At that, he smiled. “That’s all I needed to hear, love.” His palm splayed against your stomach, effectively keeping your back plastered to the wall. Henry let out a low growl, his eyes dark and almost feverish as he snapped his hips against yours. His length stretched you, filling you completely. You nearly sobbed in relief as he started to pound into you, giving no quarter. His breath fanned your neck. It made you shudder and close your eyes. The occasion twist of his hips nearly drove you mad; every time he did it, he managed to hit that spot inside you. If he kept it up, you would be done for in seconds. 

“Keep your eyes on me. I wanna… wanna see your face when you come,” he hissed.

You whined. Keeping your eyes open was more effort than you were willing to put in. Still, you forced yourself to do as he commanded. 

It didn’t take long. After a particularly deep thrust, you fell apart, your jaw going slack as you stared into his eyes. Henry gritted his teeth as you squeezed tightly around his length, his breath stacco as he came along with you.

Slowly, you untangled your legs from around his waist, testing out your weight on your feet. It helped that he kept a firm hold on you, despite the fact that he had to be just as exhausted as you were.

“Damn,” was all you could say.

He laughed, pulling back a little. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said hoarsely. “Is your shoulder okay?”

“Who the hell cares?” you countered blearily. He led you to his bed, settling you in before joining you beneath the sheets. Between the hunt and the passionate sex, you were more than a bit worn out. Before you passed out from fatigue, you made sure to tangle yourself around Henry as much as possible. He wrapped an arm around you, lazily drawing patterns on your skin. You both fell into a peaceful slumber.

In the morning, you woke up to the sound of loud knocking. “Rise and shine, you two! We’re leaving in half an hour” Sam called through the door. You sat up in a panic, worried that he would open the door.

“We locked it,” Henry reminded you. His eyes were still closed, and his voice was thick with sleep, but he was definitely awake.

“Good morning,” you said cautiously, wondering how much he was regretting the night before.

His lips quirked up into a self-satisfied grin. “It is definitely a good morning,” he agreed. You couldn’t help but smile back. With a small groan, you stretched out, working out all of the kinks in your body. Despite the sleep, your shoulder still twinged a bit. You grabbed it and rubbed the muscles. “Does it still hurt?”

“A bit,” you admitted.

Henry sat up, placing his hand on top of yours. “I’m afraid I was less than attentive to your shoulder last night than I should have been,” he confessed, yet he oddly appeared to be rather unapologetic about that.

“Well… Sam _did_ say we have half an hour. You could make it up to me,” you began slyly.

Henry gave you a hungry look, his gaze raking over your body. “Let’s see if a hot shower will help your shoulder feel better,” he suggested. Who were you to say no to that offer?

When the two of you finally got out of the shower and packed everything up and went outside, Sam and Dean were waiting by the nearest streetlight. Trying to appear as normal and casual as you could, you and Henry sauntered up to the brothers.

“So, uh, did you two sleep well?” Sam asked, avoiding eye contact.

Dean glowered over his cup of coffee. “You two aren’t allowed to sleep in the same room anymore. You’re both grounded,” he announced. “I’ll be in the car.”

The taller hunter began to say something, but ended up just shaking his head and following his brother. You, while slightly mortified, had a hard time not smirking a little. Henry appeared to be having a similar problem.

“We’ll give them something to actually complain about next time,” he winked.

You arched an eyebrow. “So there’s going to be a next time, is there?”

“Hell, yes.”


End file.
